Obscurity: Sins of the Soul
by CataclysmicReality
Summary: Eragon has failed. Three centuries later, the world is as Galbatorix willed. Through the dust of the past, an unlikely power will rise. But has it the strength to destroy the evil that birthed it? Rated for graphic violence and later sexual content
1. The Gift

Chapter 1: **The Gift**

I see the blood as it runs.

I see a village as it burns.

But most all I see life… and it…

It is fleeting.

The dead all around me echo with scenes that once held sound. Now it is silent, but soon to hear sound once more. I can hear it even now… see its impulses in my mind. Whispers of the flesh.

Soon… very soon… this village will live once again. It will be reborn with a new presence… a new life. Its legacy… of decay.

Even now the buzzing has reached my ears. But whether that is the buzzing of fly wings, or the dark whisperings of my soul… that remains unanswered. However… that is the harbinger of fate. It tells me that my time here has reached an end. It means that I must move.

Through the vibrations that wrack the earth and slight the air, I can feel it. The orange flame draws near. But it is not the soldiers that bring me the fear I face… it is their spell castors.

Unfortunately for the empire, they will not glimpse me tonight… for tonight, I am already gone.

* * *

Hours later, I can still see the countryside as it burns. It pains me to leave it… but I must. I must and will, if ever I hope to destroy this cursed land. Destroy that of the empire. Destroy Galbatorix.

Heh… that is only if he does not destroy me first.

Such a bastard…

I once heard that many of centuries ago that there was one rider left to oppose him. One by the name of Eragon. Though I'm not aware of the story's entirety, I know well of the end. He failed… and the land burned.

I'm sorry… but that earns a laugh. You'll have to forgive me…

Still though… It was because of him that the last of the female dragons hatched. Had he died, it might have helped our cause… but if all the accounts are true, he lives. And so do the dragons. As well as the riders of obscurity.

Ah… since that moment… we all suffered.

Before I get on to the facts surrounding the sufferings of the world, I believe I have yet to give my name. A name is a well deserving thing. It tells of both who we are and what one can expect. From the hearsay… it seems that all things have two names affixed to one soul. That is the rule. And I am the rule breaker.

In all of the history of Alagaesia… I am the only one. The only one to have two souls… but no name. And that… for one with naught but offense… may be the only defense needed.

That aside… I can continue the sad history that holds us.

From that of the female, the dragons found life. In time, their species not only survived… but thrived. It was well beyond the brink now. It was the living death.

Now none oppose the new order. There's no one left. After the greatest of all assaults upon the empire, Galbatorix himself came out into the world. With a power unmatched even by nature itself… he crushed his foes. The rider and his dragon captured. The Varden destroyed… and Surda buried. Even then… the chaos persisted.

Soon… Du Weldenvarden burned. The last of the elves eliminated. The mighty Beors… even they found their ruin. The living stone bled. And in the finality… the dwarves were dead… their great halls ruined, and their gods murdered.

In the aftermath, the world met with calamity and the clash resulted in a downward spiral in which none have recovered.

Dragons… both bonded and wild burn the land. Xy'locks and their Ra'zac young, hunt humans nightly in murderous swarms. Other beasts of old have ceased to be. The Urgals, which were fabled monsters that created the tyrant himself, ceased to be. And if that wasn't enough… the great sea in which had separated the many safe lands remaining… has frozen over… encrusted thick with a great black ice. I fear that the day will come when the other races learn of the destruction wrought upon their descendants and Alagaesia will become the Centrifuge of world amenity.

However… our plight isn't hopeless. There are others… others like myself, who can still fight. If I can find them… and find them willing… then we can win this. We can retake the land.

For those… like me… possess what it takes.

The Gift.


	2. Souls of the Dead

Chapter 2: **Souls of the Dead**

Light breaches the horizon.

As the light pierces the trees around me I laugh a little. It is amusing to me. The morning has arrived and I already greet the new day with fresh blood on my hands.

Dawn… and I've already killed a man. Unlike most, I am not shunning the light… not begging for forgiveness or making my peace. For when I killed him, I reveled in it.

Heh… you may think of me as a beast… for it twas a beastly act… but it is not my will. My soul wanted me to do it. My… second soul.

It preys upon me… hunts me… hurts me, but helps me. The man had done nothing to me… nor did he bear me ill will. He was just a man.

So why?

Why did I destroy the village the night before? Why did I slaughter the people then? Why?

Simple. Because it told me to.

When I saw that man, it whispered to me. And when I destroyed his life, it was satiated. It is always satiated after a kill… after destruction. But it is a ravenous beast. It hungers… it always hungers.

That is why I hope to keep it satiated for eternity… by destroying the empire… destroying its emperor.

It is because of this that I have decided. I shall seek others like me. Others that are holders… of the Gift. If they exist.

But I haven't spoken of the Gift yet… have I? I mentioned it… I gave it importance… signified that it was the meaning of my life… but wasted my time on history. An outrage… a travesty…

Very well… then I shall tell you now. About the Gift… and the Souls of the Dead.

…

From the beginning… in which I do not know exactly which beginning of what, there has always existed a cardinal rule where magic is concerned. By using magic, one uses energy. However… whatever its source, magic solely uses living energy… and never the innate energies that sustain the everything. Until now.

The secrets of getting around the living are learned through the dead.

In truth… I should take my hat off to our king… if I wore one. It is because of his deeds that I am what I am today. It is because of the great unbalance.

When the dragons suffered from the fall, the elves weakened and human society fell into ruin. When the dragons were brought back, they were brought from evil. When the elves were destroyed… it brought discord. When humans grew unaided… they grew proud and arrogant. They thought they were powerful… but they died.

Now, the souls of the dead have been denied the right of passage… the return to the living world through reincarnation. When such thing happens, those are born that hold the Gift. Though… most die right at birth. Others grow to a young age when they fall victim to the whisperings and are thought mad or worse… and killed off. While others still listen at an early age and are hunted down and destroyed like a rabid dog. Most never make it past their ninth year. None grow to realize… the power of the souls of the dead.

The souls are huge. They have a power birthed only through the wisdom of death. Elves… Witches… Sorcerers… Shades… the list goes on. No matter the difference… which is often huge, they are linked to the same death. They all died attempting to use magic through non-life energies. However… what they didn't know then… they know now.

And so do I.

Such is my secret… and the undying power of those possessive of the gift… as well as our medians… the souls of the dead.

Heh… if it is a fight that we expect… it is a fight we'll be hard pressed to lose. After all… my days of these story tellings are history. Now it is time to rise…

No…

It is time… to overwhelm.


	3. Emergence

Chapter 3: **Emergence**

Soft… so soft…

Is it…

Can you hear it?

It's soft… but there all the same…

Can you hear it now?

Heh… I guess it's impossible after all…

…For the only ones to hear are the ones with it…

Very well… I'll tell you: It's calling to me… again.

I suppose that's about right… for the time that has passed. But you don't know do you? Time has little meaning to the unaware after all…

Anyways, it's been a little over four days since the slaughter in the wood. Four days… it seems unbelievably short to me. Years ago, when I first felt the compulsion, I killed to escape insanity. After that first blood, the hunger dissipated for a course of several years… though I guess that was just because I kept the hunger fed silently… since ever since that day I've been killing to survive.

But damn it! I'm regressing… I apologize.

Even though I said the history which is the bane of my existence was something that I'd disregard, here I find myself blabbing about it once again. And to you… of all blasted things. To you…

What are you anyway? You hound me… stalk me… yet listen to me. Have you really any other purpose? What are you? Are you to serve any purpose at all?

Heh heh…

I understand now…

You think I'm delusional… a person without core… without being…

Well to hell with you… all of you. Whatever you are… JUST WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?

I get it… you are them… you are those… you are…

NOTHING! That's what you are… NOTHING! Delusions… nothingness…

Ah… people you say… shadows of my victims? But you didn't say anything… of course you didn't… you can't even speak.

AHAHAHAHA! I get it…. I get it! You are nothing. I was right. Because…

Because you are already dead.

But can the dead mock? Of course… my second soul mocks me daily… so of course you can. Of course you can…

Then… if that's the truth, then why persist? Why follow me?

Leave me! Go away! Go be the burden of others! Just not me!

…

No?

…

You refuse? You… you can do that? No… you can't do that. I won't allow it.

If you won't leave willingly…

I'LL MAKE YOU!

* * *

A split moment after, the forest as viewed from above quaked as a tremendous thunder rumble shook it to the core. Birds too afraid to know otherwise flew from the branches in great billowing clouds. Other things such as small to medium sized forest animals fled as well. However, the noise quickly subsided and silence once again claimed the forest… almost as fast as it had left. 

Below the millions of leaves that made the thick forest canopy, a subdued noise crept through the silence. Though it was the middle of one of the hottest of summer days, the air underneath was cold… unnaturally cold. The noise ahead was getting louder, and almost sounded that of laughter. In fact, it was laughter.

The young man stood in the center of what until a few minutes ago was a heavy thicket. He stood seemingly uncaring to the world with his fist pressed to the empty air. What looked to be a tree stump was just in front of him. Whatever it was that had happened seemed to have amused him. His bare shoulders were quaking with unbridled madness. If it wasn't for the noise he was making, one would have assumed that the shaking could be interpreted as any of the core emotions.

It wasn't clear why at the moment… but he definitely seemed to be happy. Still though… such a thing was a wonder. All around him, the air was cool, no longer cold; the warm of summer had already started to seep back. However, everything around him no longer made sense. It was wrong.

Every tree… every bush… every visible form of plant life was frozen. What was more… tiny bits of wood lay imbedded in the now wood turned into ice. Whatever had existed of the wood prior to the event which made it, was simply no more. In fact… the very stump before him was clearly once a tree as well… which was also frozen. It didn't make sense.

With that… he sighed.

"Heh… that was fun… but yet you live." He looked up, and his dark hair fell to the sides of his face, framing his features just a bit more. Though he had an untidy appearance, there was no facial hair upon his face. It was as though he had just shaved… but the gleam in his eyes… his silver eyes, said otherwise. It was obvious that he could care less about appearance.

"And I thought that I had you with that one. Heh heh… ah…" he sighed again.

"No matter… it is as it is… and I guess I'll have to keep you."

He dropped his arm back to his side, then looked down to the stump and smiled.

"You like that?" he cocked his head in the direction of the broken tree. "I thought you would. That's just a taste of what I have to offer."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. At his side he unclenched his fist and flexed his fingers. Then he let the breath go slowly, and reopened his eyes. In an instant, they lost their silvery shine and reverted back to a brown color. He smiled.

"Like that… don't you?"

"I suppose that you might have seen it before… but I just thought that I should show you… just so you know… so you know." Feeling smug, he turned and started walking towards a warmer part of the forest. Though, before moving too far forward, he bent down and retrieved a rag of what one could call a shirt. With another amused grin, he swung it about his bare shoulders and fastened it.

"I guess you didn't know that either… I often lose some part of my clothing when I lose myself to the moment." He looked surprised and then kicked his head back and started laughing. "No no… I never lose anything that turns the situation that provocative… come now… what did you think?"

He smiled again. Something foreign and ancient flashed in his eyes momentarily and he shuddered. Again, he addressed the shadows of the forest as though they were living.

"Oh that? That was the Gift… if you didn't know.

"Wait… how did I use it?" He shrugged, then picked up a strange looking apple from the ground. It was of an odd shape and looked hazardous. Though it looked quite delicious, it was covered with what looked like razor sharp thorns. Without much of a care for himself, he grabbed the fruit with both hands and torn it apart. As he ate the fruit that lay in the delicate middle, large runs of dark blood ran from his palms and the backs of his hands, where the thorns had gone through, to his elbows.

Despite the obvious pain, he smiled again. "Wait a moment… you'll see."

He finished with the fruit and then pulled the pieces of the thorned hide from his hands. Using his mouth, he placed the pieces back on his bleeding hands, but just so the thorns rested on top of the unbroken skin. Smiling slyly, he looked back to the shadows.

"You like it? It's what we call thistle-apples. It's such a tame name… but it is to make them seem gentler I guess. When Obscurity settled the lands, things changed… including the fruits. Just another way the evils have saturated these lands. Just another thing we have to change…

"But I haven't answered anything yet. First… I don't know." He shook his head back and forth several times slowly before he spoke. "I don't know how to summon magic… I just do. No words… no external spirits… just magic. Watch."

He stretched out his hand and the fruit shell in his hand slowly turned cold… then all the water within it froze entirely. As this happened, the air around it also grew frigid, but his body did not feel it. Instead… the wounds on his hands stopped bleeding, and the skin flowed back together. In a matter of moments, his hands were completely healed. Satisfied, he sighed, letting the fruit smash against the ground.

"You see?" He held his healed hands into the air for all to see… despite the fact that he was alone. "Again… I willed it to occur… and I'm none the weaker for it… simply because I used what I used that was natural. The Gift."

He chuckled and set his hand to the nearest tree and pressed against it.

"You see? This tree is my ticket to a longer life. But I won't touch its life force… I won't come close. That is not my way. Watch… see if you can't tell me this time."

A minute later, the entire tree seized up and crashed around him. However, when he emerged from the pile… he smiled. He opened his mouth to speak when a larger noise than the crash split the already disturbed serenity of the land.

"Tis… just when I was getting to the good part." He ran his hand through his hair, then held it to the air as though to quiet the shadows.

"Come if you want… follow if you dare… I really, really don't give a damn."

With that said, and a bitter look, he strode from the broken remnants of the destroyed tree to a some what cleared spot. In that clearing that was a little over fifty yards across, he found what it was that had made the bellow that had brought him forth. Like always, he smiled.

"EXCUSE ME!"

A large slam echoed through the air as trees on the far side of the clearing split asunder as though taken out by a giant's axe. Though, as the scaly monstrosity turned and flared its emerald wings, an axe toting giant would have been preferable… had they actually existed. However, the dragon he now faced only served to heighten his insanity… as he closed his eyes and sighed.

"I know that you hunger…" He opened his eyes and smiled. The brown quickly fading to a silver that all but glowed. With clenched fists at his side, he stood defiantly, and then let his voice be heard.

"…But so do I!"

* * *

A/C (9/27/05): Thanks for the one review so far, I was surprised since I wasn't expecting any... but they are appreciated, and they definantaly increase the speed in which chapters are released. So honk if you're horn- I mean... review if you like it! The next chapter should start setting the stage a bit more... but since the chapters are short, there will probably be a lot down the road.  



	4. Presence

Chapter 4: **Presence**

The dragon, with all its savagery, voiced its intentions through a roar so fierce, it would quail those of its own race. With that, its stance was decided. It was now a fight to the death… and it had no intention of losing.

"Heh heh… is that supposed to be scary?" He looked around, then surveyed the dragon. Within seconds, he was smiling. "I… see. You're rider-less? Then that makes you wild. Fantastic."

He looked to the side and seemed to relax a little. "So… you're going to watch, are you? That's fine. It's not like this is my first brush with a dragon… well, it might be, since I don't know which species it is.

"Ah… but you don't know, do you? The dragons… and about them… you wouldn't. Well… then I'll have to… though I don't want to." He looked up sharply and frowned. "Hold that thought…"

The dragon reared and let forth a jet of thick, green-tinged flame that just narrowly missed its mark. Not put off by its failure, it redoubled its efforts to take down its prey.

He cursed loudly as a mouthful of razors snapped the empty air that until a moment ago had been occupied by his flesh.

"This…" he stated as he dodged a tail lash, "is why…" another blow just missed and the dragon raised its claws, "I… hate dragons!"

Screaming, he charged the dragon just as the dragon pivoted away. However, in the pivoting beast's wake, came its emerald tail, which caught him across the chest and hurled him into the forest. When the momentum halted, he whirled on one of the trees next to him.

"SHUT UP!"

The tree had said nothing, but in the next moment its icy remnants rained down.

"…and you…" he turned to face the dragon that lay beyond the mass of trees in the clearing beyond. "I know you now… 'Split-tail'."

The dragon roared with an unmet savagery that sent any remaining forest-life fleeing. Without hesitation, it proceeded to ignite the grove of trees in front of him. Thick smoke and intense heat rolled off the blaze, which as it was, earn him a smile.

"Heh heh… ah… thanks."

He put a hand to the blaze and it spontaneously reduced as though being sprayed by an invisible hose. The various wounds on his back and arms healed. Eyes ablaze, he looked at the dragon with unchecked emotion.

"You… you are a Split-tail. Ah…" he sighed, then pushed his hair from his eyes. Then absently talking to nothing: "Split-tails… a dragon species that came to being through the evils of the land. I only know of three kinds, the sires included… yet I've only the dishonor of meeting two."

The dragon reared again, and brought its tail through the air, where upon its end rested a bony spade that upon drawing closer slid open, in a sense splitting. The flayed axe of a spade then cleaved effortlessly through several trees, before the dragon brought its tail back around. Akin to its rising fury, it opened its maul again, displaying the many angled teeth that lay poised to strike.

"Yeah… and hence the name…" he said looking at the spade. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I remember once… when I was a boy. A friend and I… we questioned a dragon's intelligence, where he said it existed… I did not. So which is it?"

The great beast stirred again, this time fanning the fires of the forest with its wings. Contrary to the original dragons, its neck spikes no longer consisted of a line of vertical spikes. Instead, the spikes had grown into peaked triangular plates that could either lay flat or raised to an angle. Likewise, its head had also changed. The facial structure had become streamline… and narrow. And the forehead…. It was bear no longer, and instead bore two shielded tapered points angled slightly from the back of its head, but relatively flat, that were as long as half the dragon's head.

In short, this species while swift and capable… was also extremely deadly.

"Hmmm… no response… then I'd have to say… stu-"

Without warning, he was caught in the gut by a piece of tree that all but gutted him.

However, considering its limbs had pierced several arteries, a gutting would have been preferable.

Now he could do naught as he watched helpless under its weight, as his blood continued to pour forth from the wound as he thrashed about, sending blood splaying out in every direction. Eyes bulged out, and losing their silvery glow, his life force teetered on the edge.

He had been stupid, and he knew that now.

Desperately he reached out a hand to the blaze… to use the gift…

But it was too late.

With his hand still outstretched, he closed his eyes, and let go his last breath.

It was over.

With an error of caution, the Split-tail moved forward through the broken remnants of the forest strewn about at its feet. It could smell its kill, but with its fires burning with the integrity of hell, it was kept at bay. Though that didn't stop it for long.

During the battle, dark clouds had gathered upon the horizon and now lay overhead. Within seconds, a black rain, rain cursed by the dark magics, began to fall.

As it did, the flames lessened, and the pathway to the corpse opened.

With the rain, ash and ember mixed together into a smoldering, noxious combination. The mire formed now was thick, and burned to the touch. But that's only if you were human.

To the dragon now, it was nothing. Having grown up in such mixtures for the entirety of its life, it knew it all too well. Having also grown up hungry, it knew when to not pass up a meal.

Jaws closed, it bumped the log off the corpse, breathing in the scent of fresh blood. For a moment, it continued to linger above the body, taking in the sweet scent of fresh death. Having enough, it quickly jerked its head, determined to rip its head off.

The dragon was never expecting a hand to block its path.

With a growl, it snapped its head up and gave a sideways glare at the body.

Sure enough, the hand was elevated, and a smile rested on the once expressionless face.

With a chuckle, the body sat up.

"I'm sorry, beast, but he's not on the menu."

* * *

From the edge of the forest, a great burst of energy ripped free from within, causing the great dragon to careen through the trees before grinding to a halt just beyond the clearing. Despite the pouring rain, the forest had caught ablaze once again, a thick smoke obscuring the happenings within. Then, as impossible as it seemed to the dragon, the body showed at the edge, just as bloody. 

A dead man walking.

With a laugh of insanity, he flung aside the tattered remains of his shirt, exposing the torn, pallid skin to the elements.

The dragon in the meanwhile, was nursing several deep abrasions on its leg, as well as sporting a large number of injuries on its right side. Whatever had happened… it seemed their positions were slightly more equal.

"Heh heh… ha… ah…" He held up his hands, and looked at them, though there was no color to his eyes any longer, in fact, they seemed not to echo any life. None whatsoever.

"Ha… it's been awhile… since last I was in control."

To hear him talk, the dragon gathered itself together. It was clear to it that this fight wasn't over. Not in the least.

"But you don't know that… do you?" He asked the dragon that now slashed at the air violently with its tail. "And do you wonder… why I often ask so many questions of so many things? It's an insanity thing… I doubt that you would truly understand.

"You see… of my kind… the non-existences… the nameless ones… the Jrrha." He looked at the dragon as the rain clawed at his skin, but all in all, he seemed immune to such pain. "…we live only as souls of the dead… and the sins that we carry echo forth from those of the living we possess. Forget reincarnation. This isn't natural… it's not right."

With a massive blade of energy, he lashed out at the trees to his side, the fires still burning ceased to be and the trees were no more. Seemingly satisfied with the destruction, he continued his rant.

"I lost my body… when I tried to do the impossible… but I can do it now. But I died… and now my soul lives within this shell." He held up his hands to make a point. "But this shell feels my pain… my fury… my hunger. It isn't evil, but inherits it all the same. But at death, we have the control… but not long… no, the body burns. The fury of the nether claws at it. But I am in control… and he who would be is alive, for I'll need him again. But to bring him back… fool that he is! I need blood… the blood of a foe." He pointed a pale finger at the dragon.

"Your blood!"

In a reply, came a mighty bellow. But that only served to widen the smile of the Jrrha.

An eerie laugh filled the rain soaked battlegrounds. "That's right. Tonight I take a slash at the empire itself… by killing one of Obscurity's dragons. Now… COME!"

Enraged to the point of break, the dragon launched forward, claws and fangs bared. However, it was jumping to its death.

Using the rain as his ally, Jrrha siphoned the heat from the air above the clearing, which caused the rain to fall as black daggers of ice. Many which bounced harmlessly off the dragon's armored hide, but a few strengthened by the Gift… managed to pierce the weak spots.

However, undaunted by the assault, the dragon plowed forward, its claws sliding of the soaked earth, just to lash out at that which angered it.

Just as equally stubborn, was its opponent, who merely laughed as the dragon miscalculated and tumbled over its weakened foreleg, enough to send it careening on its side.

Seized with opportunity, Jrrha used the Gift and froze the mud it had so graciously planted itself in. Although, he wasn't happy about it.

"THIS…! YOU SEE THIS?" he spat angrily at the dragon, not cemented to the ground via the many mud-cuffs about it. "This… this is what he'd do… the only factor of the Gift he knows. That's why… I'll deliver… the new lesson."

Arms parted, he raised his hands above his head in a gesture of mock worship. "To steal heat is the weakest usage… to create it… to cascade it… is infinite." He smiled wickedly. "ARE YOU WATCHING…? WATCH IT!"

He stuck a hand out at the dragon.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? DO IT! ROAST ME!"

Without further hesitation, the dragon did exactly that… or it tried to.

But when its maw opened, and the green fire came forth, the madness of the Nameless One intervened, and used the gift to strike back. And strike back it did.

Accelerated and fueled by the burning hell fires, the flames tripled in intensity, and disappeared in a reversed direction. A direction that made short work of what was left of the dragon.

In that instant, the flames traveled down its throat, through its chest cavity, and literally split the dragon in half, spewing forth guts and bones, and a thick fog of blood and debris created a temporary mist that displaced the falling rain. As the pieces settled, Jrrha bent down to examine one of the claws that had been torn free in the process. Without pause, he set to work at something, as the remaining fires died down, and the wounds on his stomach healed.

Then, he threw the claw into one of the fires, something carved into its surface.

Apparently pleased with himself, he then went to examine the carcass… letting what blood remained within flow into his own body.

"Now your strength is mine." He eyed the wing membranes, as well as the head crest and the tail. "As will your attributes."

Having said that, he went to the tail, and ripped its end off, leaving a few of the tail bones in place to serve as a handle. To test it, he flicked his wrist and the axe-like apparatus opened. With another flick, it closed. Pleased, he set off toward the wings, and then to the head.

When he was finished, he tucked the tail spade in his belt, and hoisted the great head-crest up as a shield, attached to his arm with three loops of leg tendons. While around his shoulders, hung a crude shroud made from dragon wing-membrane.

Now for the finishing touch.

He sighed to himself. "So you won't forget…" He kicked the blackened claw free from the flames that had since licked at its surface. Determined, he lined up his arm and grabbed it up. For a few seconds, he endured the pain, the searing of skin and his smoking palm, then his teeth bared; he smiled, just as his eyes began to return to normal.

"Remember…"

With a wild cry, he let fly the burning claw clenched in his fist.

For a moment, he fought the pain, and the temptation to cry. Then he caught sight of his palm… and the word branded into it.

_Jrrha_

What was that? A name?

No… a title.

He closed his eyes… trying to remember…

_Remember._

Nodding, he grabbed a fleshy piece of dragon, letting the blood soothe his hand.

It was as he did so, that he noticed it was gone.

The hunger had abandoned him… at least for the moment.

With a satisfied inner sigh, he looked at his hand again. Just to find that where the dragon blood had touched the letters of his palm, they had turned into a shimmering crimson. He was marked.

With thoughts of the cursed history he hated so much, it dawned upon him that the ancient riders had palms that shined silver… and they were the ones that had bonded with dragons.

He laughed at the irony of it all.

Now he bore a palm that shone crimson. And now he too shared a bond with the dragons.

A bond of death.

Continuing to laugh, he left that site. But not before he stowed the marked claw within a fresh pouch of dragon hide. Just as a reminder… just so the orange flame would know not his title.

Know not of the Jrrha.

With continued chuckles, he left, and disappeared into the shadows of the black rain.

But he was not all that left.

From the shadows was a creature that had been attracted by the scent of blood. A creature that watched as he made his departure.

A creature that would remember.

Having seen enough, the black form of the mighty creature backpedaled, and in seconds, it to was lost to the rain.

In a direction pointed toward the heart of the empire.

* * *

A/C (10/27/05): Sorry, didn't mean for that to take so long. I deleted so many different versions as I went along... nothing seemed to go right. (it's much easier to rant than to add detail.) At least now he has a name/title. 

And a special thanks to my only reviewer at this time. Thanks Julian, that is if you're still around after this delay.


	5. Sanity

Chapter 5: **Sanity**

'The smell of rotting flesh has left me, and that is a good thing.

'For three days it hounded me, pursued me, and gave myself away… made me stand apart of the shadows.

'That… that was the dragon's legacy. At least what was left of its death… because it was still very much alive.

'Within my veins.

'Such it is… but the smell… the smell I am glad to be rid of.

'It's funny in a way. The old me would have enjoyed it. Reveled in it. But that me is gone… has been gone… for at least a week.

'But does that cure me?

'I've silenced the voice, no, satiated it? But that never lasts… perhaps human blood, just doesn't have what a dragon's has in potency. Yes… perhaps that's the difference.

'Or perhaps… it knows that as I was I couldn't find an ally for the life of me… even when so desperately needed, I'd have more of an inclination to destroy such a traveling partner. Yes, that must be it.

'Heh heh heheh… But have I really achieved it? I've heard of it… it's been spoken around me, but does it actually exist? This thing called… sanity.

'If it does, I doubt I'll ever enjoy it fully… but at least I can wallow in the hopes of silence.

'Yet here I am… talking aloud, and though the shadows have fallen, as they must have been extensions of my inner soul… They are bound to return, so why bother changing how I am?

'Yes… it's good this way too.'

He paused a moment to look at the crimson sheen of his palm. It seemed to seal the evil within him.

'Yes, should I talk aloud; I'll know that the voice with which I speak is truly mine… and not his. But then again, I'm still talking in my head, for I'm not speaking… am I? But then again… I'm not completely silent.

'Jrrha, eh? A name that means 'nameless'… it works. Strangely enough. Actually, why am I worried? It isn't even a name… it's just a title. I can work with a title.'

He continued to laugh to himself as he took a moment to gaze down from the great forest, down from a knoll to the plains below… the great realm of the humans.

'Hmmm… Loath as I am to admit it, I have to go there… maybe not today… but soon.

'The former home of the elves in which I've spent my many years of pain is not where I'll be lucky to remain. Soon the greater threats will arise. Soon there'll be a time when not even my immature sense of the 'Gift' will save me. Not even my inner demon.

'Nothing will save me.

'Damn it to the hells… I do need them after all… I need ones like myself.

'My path only certifies this.'

He sighed and adjusted the dragon's head crest against his back and repositioned the axe as well so it would swing less. With a sigh, he left the dangers of the great forest to face the dangers of the great beyond.

It was not a welcome change.

* * *

'A week… it's been a week.

'I left the forest a week ago, but not out of desperation… but necessity. Heh… but apparently, my fame grows as the rumors grow. I don't know how they were alerted to it so quickly, but it seems as though everyone knows.

'A dragon has been slayed… one of the twisted mounts of Obscurity is dead.'

He started to chuckle.

'Stupid fools. If they only knew that I did this for them… but how could they know such? Still… it worries me.

'I know I'm not the most careful, but I've done my part to stay in the shadows… I haven't been seen, for it is obvious that they would notice the corpse components. I doubt that anyone would be stupidly ignorant of that fact at least…

'But yet… people less resemble sentient creatures and now more closely are akin to sheep. Pointless lives.

'Pointless indeed.'

He stopped a moment, for he had wandered the past four days… without rest. It was beyond the scope of the human within him… but it was also separate of the dark one… his second soul. For that hadn't revealed itself since the dragon. But then there was that fact as well… for the blood of a dragon doubled as his own.

It seemed as though nothing was his anymore.

The same thought seemed to cross his mind as he stared at the crimson title and the mark upon his palm.

'But that's fine. It is the will of this world… one that has no identity in itself that longs for companions of the same cut. If it is the world's will… then what objection have I, since it will surely be the one to carry me to the top?'

He let a small smile cross his lips at the thought. Surely… if not he, and ones like he, who would set the world right? For given the facts, it was only a matter of time before his race was the predominant one.

'After all… it's only a matter of time…'


	6. Time

Chapter 6: **Time**

'Time…

'Like water, it flows. Like air it surrounds us. Like earth it is firm. And like fire… it has the option to save or destroy.

'Time is life… life is a part of time, but only a part.

'For the two soldiers lying in pools of their own blood, time is death. Time is choice. It is those who choose to exist or part that are the sole importance.

'I wonder… for this soldier at my mercy, which aspect of time will he choose? The mercy… or the execution?'

With that, the nameless one pressed the appendage of the Split-tail softly to the soldier's neck as he held him steady from behind as he softly whispered the continuation of his inner voice aloud.

"Well then, what is your answer?"

"I-I don't know… I don't know w-what you mean-"

"Heh… time… as an option." He told the soldier coldly, almost as cold as the blackened air around them. The persistent sound of the blackened rain of Obscurity falling steadily outside in the courtyard of the barracks. A courtyard that even now was being washed of the crimson death that it contained. "To live… or to die. The choice is simple."

The soldier grappled futilely with the iron hold upon him, a strength inhumanly augmented with both innate prowess given to him by the Gift, and the attributes sustained by the blood bond of the dragon within. Unable to do much, the man became overwhelmed with fear of the death that lay around him, as warm tears flowed from his eyes and down his face. To him, the answer was simple enough.

"I… I-I wish… to live!"

"For what purpose?"

The soldier of the orange flame swallowed, his heart beat dangerous within his chest. The answer wasn't so simple, but there was only one thought that crossed his mind. A thought that he vocalized without hesitation.

"For Galbatorix, and the empire."

"I see..."

The hold was relaxed momentarily and the blade-like tail eased from his throat. For a moment, the soldier had renewed faith. For a moment he thought that the death of his brother's in arms was due to insubordination and failure of loyalty. He thought this and more, right until a sharp pain and swift numbness overtook his throat in a moment that all but felt of nothingness.

Release, but without cause, as his life blood flowed freely from his neck and that that was left of air within his lungs bubbled free of the severed airway, which gave want to cough, yet want of an action never to take place… as the last light of the living world was engulfed in the darkness.

With little to nothing in sound, he slumped to the ground at the feet of the first of the Jrrha. Who upon his shadow cast face wore the semblance of a fleeting smile.

"…time has chosen you unfit.

"Time has chosen your death."

Without another word, neither aloud nor in thought, the Jrrha stowed his weapon beneath the dirt-worn cloak that served to hide his outward betrayal to the world, and crossed the corpse-ridden floor to the darkened storage room of the armory. At its entrance, he paused a moment before disappearing within.

After a short time, he returned with that of a sole silver dagger with sheath, and fastened it to his hidden apparel, along with what little gold pieces he lifted from the dead and their holds.

Then, without further thought or care, he took a torch from the guard's store, and threw it upon the stocked grains and ale.

The rest he left to time's discretion.

* * *

Even several leagues away, the blackened smoke hung as part of the blackened clouds in the skies of Obscurity. The only difference existed in that the clouds were of fresh death, and not of death generations past. Past generations that the Jrrha that watched the ascending clouds knew all too well.

'It is irony in its simplistic form that those bearing the orange flame be taken by a flame of a similar color. Should that be a sustaining recourse for all who wear it, then there may just be less who wish to support the empire.

'But that is a day that won't be seen any time soon.

'A pity.'

The Jrrha smiled.

It was a good day. No, rather it was a good month.

As with anything, it took time to do things of any importance. In regards to his own activities, it has been a month of blood. A month that started with the blood of a dragon.

Since then, that day... he had left his mark well in the area that used to be the great forests of the elves. Many of the forts and barracks that saturated the area that helped to suppress and oppress its populace, now lay as cinder upon the earth. All life met, was eliminated in the same manner of choice as he had presented in the event prior. Foolishness that any should die since all he sought was a single answer.

The correct one.

But sadly, not one person was able to produce it. And among the countless people encountered, not a single one bore any semblance to even a hint of the "Gift"... and all had but one soul and a name. Such tidings only made him wonder if he wasn't the only owner of the "Gift" left alive.

At least in the region of the ancient inhabitants. Such that superstition and common sense were high and low respectably, then it was a good chance that any existing users were beyond dead already.

Given that, and his renowned presence, perhaps there was only one option remaining before the great armies of flame came to swallow him completely: The option of descending into the middle empire. The option to set about a quest that would drive his influence into the heart of the matter. That... or seek the least populated areas in favor of finding those most likely to wish solitude.

Either way... it was certain that the journey to come would be great indeed.

South, east, west, and any of the directions between...

Whichever in the end... did it matter? Any and all would be fun to take.

'And since it's like that...

'To strike the heart as one is pushing even the luck of the gifted.

'To circumvent... hack off limbs whilst skirting the outer lying regions...

'Just that alone... could prove to be the best.'

"To the east it is."


	7. Dream

Chapter 7: **Dream**

'This morning I had a dream. It was a very strange dream.

'It wasn't really of me that was different... yet I was.

'No Gift... no Obscurity... no empire. It was a completely different world.

'But... even then, it wasn't without suffering. It wasn't without burden. It wasn't without a cursed fate or the second soul... in fact, there were many souls, an influx of souls if such a thing were possible. And certainly... it wasn't without pain.

'Pain. Physical, mental, emotional... it felt as though the me in the dream wasn't there, if he were an empty shell of existence. It felt as though his world was failing.

'He felt lost.

'Where he was... where he was going... reflections on what he wanted and couldn't have... what he longed for but could not reach... who he felt he was and could never show. A person with "great" promise, unlimited potential, and vast creativity. A person who felt life was crashing down upon him and he could never escape the expectations of those around him.

'As I said, it was a strange dream. But whether the feeling of pity was coming from him or me, in the end... I couldn't help but feel connected to him.

'Heh... but in the end, comparing our lives and which I rather have... all issues of safety aside, I would certainly choose this world I live, for it alone gives the me here that which the me of the dream can never hope to grasp: Release.

'It gives me freedom.

'It gives me death.

'Pain...

'And many other bits of the worst emotions imaginable, all viewed through the eyes of my enemies as their souls slip to the nether.

"It gives me... peace. Were such a thing possible.

'It gives me... a moment of relaxation... to feel the still warm blood of my enemies against my skin... to watch as the light dies.

'For in this land of darkness, what purpose does light give the individual?

'Thus, if it's me, and I have any say in this matter at all... then I will free others by extinguishing everything that binds them to this world.

'I will sacrifice for understanding... even if it wishes to elude. This I swear upon the me of the dream. In that way, may we both be free... and may those whose lives that I end here, be used to fill the shell of my other self there, in that world of the dream, so we may both feel at ease.

'And if I send enough, perhaps when next he dreams... it will be a dream of me.'

* * *

A/C 2/15/07 - Long chapters take a while to write if I'm not in the mood... so I may do more short chapters for the heck of it since this seems to be my ranting fic. More ranting equals more adventures in the long run. If you don't think that works out for anyone still interested in this story, just let me know and I'll try to get longer chapters from now on.


	8. Unrest

Chapter 8: **Unrest**

In the whole of the Alagaesian continent, the number of barracks and towns that held troops and weapons depots was vastly distributed and innumerous, so much to the point that to guesstimate an exact figure would be beyond ludicrous. However, in the ancient forest-province of Duweldenvarden, under jurisdiction of the outer sectors of the empire there were said to be some four hundred fifty various troop stations that held a number exceeding ten soldiers and having an average maximum of around seventy-five of the infantry level. Soldiers of a status Calvary and higher were known to patrol from one region to another, rarely ever staying in one place for long save for situations of emergency. Of these it was said that there were at least fifty squadrons of uncertain units that made rounds of the area.

Or at least that's how it was...

...Now there are less.

Though no figures were completely known as yet, it was estimated by rumor that at least five squadrons of Calvary rank had been brought to utter ruin, left as bloodied and rotten corpses at the roadside. Farmers and merchants reported the bodies from the central region in a progressing line east. Always east... always the same; bodies without clear distinction of cause of death, men and horses alike... as though beasts of old had returned to plague human-kind, leaving gaping chest cavities and the stench of carrion wafting upon the breeze like mementos of death.

Calvary were not the only targets.

Since the unseen uprising, if such a thing existed, twenty-three of said barracks and troop centers fell to ruin... most burning to the ground and leaving no trace so as to follow. No force was ever mentioned in the reports of fall due to the fact that no witness was ever left alive... if even one piece.

Twenty-three... until today.

* * *

Unnatural fires helped to keep the light within as the heavy darkness of obscurity fell upon the blackened land. Like that of a living creature, the flame stripped what sustenance it could from that in reached and left its excrement in the form of a pungent and acrid smoke that dulled the senses and stung the eyes. But given the alternative of the dark... it was all the more preferable... while the room itself was deplorable.

Nothing seemed left standing of the proud furnishings of this comfortable station away from the normalcy of town. A modest living of boring days was behind all who enjoyed times of rest within, as behind as the living aspect itself... since there were none left alive.

Like that of perverse decoration, those of the departed had now become as much as a part of their abode as the material objects of before. Where instead of tapestry and pictures, crimson stains and gut-juice saturated entrails hung about the walls... severed limbs burned in place of logs, yet in places outside the fire wells... and instead of forest fragrances, the smell of death hung thick in the air.

To any who should have the horrible misfortune to view it, it was like that of hell on Earth. And such was the exact case of the young soldier upon the floor... as he just opened his eyes... to the unsightly existence before him.

That soldier, born and raised as a loyal subject of Galbatorix and the empire, had basked in nothing but rewarded luxury his short fifteen years. To think that he'd be lying here... amidst his dismembered and horribly mutilated comrades was too much. To think he'd be here remaining alive when all others had abandoned him was just as terrifying. But all of that and the fears resulting paled in comparison to that which stood before him:

A demon.

Surely it was nothing else—could be nothing else. For what manner of beast could exist within the world of humans? What manner of creature existed elsewhere—he knew not... just couldn't know.

Illuminated in the doorframe by the fires of its making stood the beast itself... drenched in the blood of its victims, its green scaly skin gleaming bright from beneath, its unsightly weapon of a hand, and its wild haired gray-shining-eyes brighter than the flames that licked its body... it was this, who was the devil himself.

A devil that asked him a question of well-being before kneeling before him with a smile of utter madness and soulless abandon.

* * *

"Are you up? That is good. You have use before your death. Should it not be as painful as the hell you fall to, tell me that which I wish to know."

The boy upon the ground looked up at the beast before him with an almost passive acceptance of the death he expected, sideways and out of the corners of his eyes, as the rest of his body could not will itself into movement.

"Who are you?" he asked in earnest, at least wishing for the title of his soon-to-be killer.

"There is no meaning in name that can only be used to describe a single being." The beast—no rather—the man said before him... for it was a man... a man of uncanny violence. "That's why... my kind doesn't come with such things. However..." he held his free hand up to sight level. "This... mark on my palm is the classification of my kind. That of... the Jrrha."

"Cr-crimson... palm...?" The teen looked as though he could feint at any moment. "The rumored slayer of the dragon? Heh..." A smile crossed his lips as he stared at the unsightly gash that spewed a dark liquid he could only assume to be blood, down the side of the Jrrha's face.

"N-not... immortal... 'h?

The Jrrha's face relaxed slightly as he undid he dragon's cloak and displayed the numerous wounds that bubbled across his body.

"No?" he said with a venom laced tone. He picked up the severed head of another soldier and held it firmly by the top of the hair covered skull, fore-fingers imbedded in the gooey eyes sockets for better hold. Bits of dripping liquid from the ragged neck opening filled the air with such a stench that it made those near it wish to retch. "Why not?"

'Y-you can... hurt... injured..."

"Oh?"

At that, his eyes shown brighter and a chill enveloped the air about the head as the lower parts of the neck began to freeze in a fashion that crept from base up, freezing all exposed portions until those parts that could be frozen no more turned to powered ice. A progression that continued until the entire bloodied mass disappeared altogether, leaving the hand that held it completely untouched... while the wounds upon his body stopped bleeding and healed to the point of flawless perfection. All in a time span of a moment.

"Tell me again... how I'm not of the immortals?"

There was a pause momentarily before one word formed upon the teen's quivering lips. "Demon."

"Probably... that's as accurate as a description can get." He moved towards the boy with the same hand outstretched, a familiar glowing of the eyes and a chilling sensation present in the air above. "Knowing that... are you still wishing to go the long way?"

"K-k-k... w-what d-do you wish to know?"

"Galbatorix... disperses troops throughout the empire based on holdings and need, correct? Nod if yes." He got a nod in response. "Troop dispersal usually is a time consuming process... the central empire rarely chooses to disperse recklessly—especially to the outer provinces. Twenty-four troop holdings are little to nothing in the face of the empire as a whole?" Another nod. "Then dispersion is not a problem at this time... though quantities have seemed to have replenished previously destroyed factions. An outer lying establishment?" There was no reply. "Useful answers equal a potential useful existence and life."

His informant seemed to mull the thought over for a moment before he nodded slightly.

"So that's where." The Jrrha seemed to take a moment to ponder the thought before speaking again. "If not dispersion... then there is another reason... besides Calvary."

"R-riders..."

"I see... the Black Mounts of Obscurity... they would come. Riders could be here within the day... then dispersion is pointless? Damn!"

He punched the ground just beside the soldier's head and splintered the wood floor beneath in his moment of rage.

"Then it is the riders I'll have to quell...? Very well."

He grabbed his weapon and proceeded to stand as his thoughts filled with the murmurings of his daily inner exchange. It was an exchange yet absent of the second party, but busy all the same with that of his own voice. Then suddenly, just prior to a potential conclusion, a low groan escaped the lips of the soldier at his feet.

"Ah..." he said distractedly to the air. "I almost forgot. Almost useful enough information... equals only an almost useful life. But in your case..."

He smiled as he began to siphon the heat off the air as the glow upon his palm glowed bright with crimson delight. A delight he himself reveled in as he closed his palm, and the entire outside of the boy-teen at his feet froze solid, and fractured in an instant—leaving the unmoving but very much alive body to suffer its fate... as the still warm blood from beneath flowed through the cracks with ease.

Giving himself one last look upon his work, he burned with the energies siphoned, and the bloodlust that dominated his senses... as the almost-useful frozen-faced soldier looked the part of a statue that shed tears of crimson.

* * *

With the slow disappearance of just one more of the innumerous troop depots in the whole of Alagaesia, it could only offer the Jrrha a hollowed sense of satisfaction... especially when the still fight to come left a bad taste in his mouth. Even with his hold of the Gift growing with every kill... even then.

Even with that... was it enough? Only the light of the 'morrow would tell... but for now, he would content himself with the darkness of the night.

Always of the dark.

He smiled.

* * *

A/C (2/19/07) - I don't know what the title has to do with how the chapter eneded up... but it was the title I started with and I like it anyways... so I kept it. Because of the review I got last time I decided it would be better to rant less event though I enjoyed the last chapter. Also because of that, I'm going to try to move forward on the plot a little faster now... but probably not exceedingly fast... I just don't have enough time in my daily life for such devotion (even though I want to get to the exciting chapters as fast as I can). 


	9. Spirits

Chapter 9: **Spirits**

"_sha..."_

"_sha..."_

"_Sha l'esto'na, iay les' troya, ee to'ka ya eh ros'tey. Seek the sorrow, 'pon the twilight, ever falling shadows are."_

"_Ka'n tateria, eh sha'tonia, to ke' t' rey no s'rey. Fall forgotten, in the mountains, brightly shining no shine star."_

"_Sher'ria shterna, ee to je'e la, shrae les don'ia ke rez da. Forth-ward darkness, ever present, seal the memories in thy way."_

"_Ee to troya, shter deoria, eih zeir na ferh eh ros'ta. Ever twilight, dark descended, in this world where shadows lay."_

'In the world of darkness, there exists naught but sorrow that not even the bright sun can pierce. Just as any memories of the before times are forever submerged in the already prevalent darkness.

'So sing the Stra'han'ia; Elves and other ancient dwellers of the forest whose souls could not pass on due to regret for allowing their home lands to fall to the empire.

'Once their race spoke mainly that of the ancient language... but while the language itself is far from forgotten, time and the ever prevalent darkness of the land has corrupted their voices and tongue, and now they sing in languages only known to those of the spirit realm. And of course, to those with the "Gift".

'Still, to those ignorant to their words, it is said that the melody of their singing can either instill a lasting sense of peace... or an ever haunting regret and impact of betrayal, and that of a suffering spirit. Either way, this place, where the Stra'han'ia are most concentrated, is the perfect place for my confrontation to come.

'As of today, undaunted by the presence of bound spirits of this land, one of the three largest Calvary units will be passing through this point. Though typically an area to avoid, my actions of late have given the much suppressed public a chance to breathe and tensions in the middle-northern are ever rising. Should the opened areas remain open for too long... Galbatorix may witness the first open rebellion in nearly a century, were it not for overwhelming fear of the riders at his command.

'Regardless of that, the thought of rebellion is like that of a virus; should it spring up in one place, if not cured it will soon spread to others. And with twenty-four barracks in ruin, the infection is to spread much faster without resistance. That is why fate is good in this instance.

'Where should these actions of tonight matter, then it will be time for an attempt at the passage east.

'But this... we won't know without seeing.'

At this thought, the Jrrha set about his preparation—whether physically in nature of this battleground or simple mental preparation. All in all, just a little more practice for his sheer understanding of the particular 'Gift' under his command. He wasn't sure why, but he thought of it often these days. Perhaps such could be attributed by the unknown after-effects of having the dragon's blood mixed with his own, proof of such that shone deeply in the crimson branding upon his palm.

He shook his head as he laughed off the thought. Dragon or not... 'Gift' or not... he was sure that the passage to the east had something to do with his understanding and that perhaps if something was to be understood he would find it there.

The nature of the 'Gift' at his command was that of heat. Fire and ice as well... but only as mere bi-products of the former. Energy of nature when absorbed and re-channeled to be used by the mage at will with purpose of magical feats typically rendered impossible due to limits placed upon those very same who attempted to wield it. Where even if a rider and their dragon were to share a burden, they would still meet with death should something go amiss in their calculations. Such was the downfall—the perfect plan in effect against them and their ilk. Have them kill themselves.

It was amusing. Just the thought of it made him smile—for no matter how impossible the magical feat, it would just result in an increasingly frozen wasteland around him until the energies balanced out. Still...

He spat violently at the next thought.

He was who was blessed/cursed with the gift had less understanding of magic than the lowest of apprentice magi. For now all he's accomplished was the basics of perseverance and survival instinct imbued upon him through his blood... through his soul... and through that of his "other" self. He was next to worthless on his own.

A warm trickle down his chin interrupted such thoughts—thoughts that had him thinking to such an extreme that he bit his lip until it bled. Worthless.

He was truly pathetic... and only further discovery of self could prove otherwise... and only by forging into the east could he attempt to come to such understandings.

Only by winning the battles he must.

And for those reasons alone... he would simply demolish this empire from whatever part he could until it collapsed entirely.

And that's why the way tonight would be a stained pathway of blood into the future.

A way that opened the door to the gateway east.

'Heh. My thoughts are getting quite sentimental lately... I must be becoming an old man.

'How sad.'

With these thoughts the last to reside within his head, he stared openly into the distant sky as the last remnants of the scattered sunset sunk into the abyss that was the opposite end of the sky. A sky that reflected upon the blackening clouds a lighted red that couldn't be a more appropriate harbinger for the upcoming bloodbath. A potential atmosphere that seemed to resonate within the souls of the Stra'han'ia, as their way of song took an almost angry tone and their after-trailing spirits left spiraling clouds of crimson rising softly into the setting night's sky.

It was sweet irony that played in his favor. Perhaps a way of the land as it prepared to send its representative out into the field. But most likely it was simply because these souls like despair and death almost as much as he.

Like he, it had an inpatient lust for death.

Nothing save the impatience. He closed his eyes and put up the hood of his traveling cloak. Beneath it laid the dragon's wing membrane that adorned his shoulders, just as both the tail-tip weapon and the crest shield remained in their respective hidden locations.

It was good... like this.

...like this?

A small smile crossed his lips as he felt the world around him as what wind there was caressed his uncovered skin. Actually, it didn't matter how things were so long as there was the presence of something that would die. So long as the blood he sought to spill decorated his weapon and the earth at his feet then it really didn't matter how he went into it. Just so long as things went the way they were supposed to.

His.

A distant sound gave his thoughts pause as he slowly opened his eyes to the darkening world around him. Somewhere in the greater distance there was movement within the world of the shadowed twilight, against the hills and upon the grass untainted by the souls of the dirt upon which he stood. The bare earth that had witnessed the atrocities of generations and welcomed every soul to its fold that had lost its way in the greater abound.

This ground most hallowed. This ground that was once loved. But with tonight's passing, he would love it in a different way, and force the souls upon its ground into eternal exile, should he exhibit the wish to do so. Otherwise he may let a few crawl away simply to meet death at the hands of their emperor.

So many options... so many decisions... should he only be fortunate there be enough to compensate his growing list and satiate his inborn desires. His natural hunger... that which he thought had faded and given upon him sanity after many years well beyond sanity's reach only to discover that the mere thought of the blood shed ahead had already stirred the same wanton thirsts and ravenous consumptions of souls he thought he had left behind him. But for now, he could remain in control as the dragon's blood within him held the void, restrained the other soul to a point where the blood itself was strained to its limit, evident by the pulsating crimson light emanating from the 'Jrrha' branded to his palm.

It made him wonder just briefly if it wasn't this that the Stra'han'ia were mimicking as their trails continued to rise into the air.

Whatever hold the thought had of the moment was broken by the sound of hooves upon the hallowed ground as a horse galloped toward his position, only to stop hard as its rider pulled swiftly on the reigns at the sight of him.

"You there, traveler," the horseman, an obvious scout of the trailing Calvary, thundered in a voice full of the hated essence that composed all within the higher ranks of Galbatorix's legions. "What business have you to merit your presence in these forsaken lands?"

"Forsaken? Theses lands?" The Jrrha asked curious. "How so? Last I looked, these lands were teeming... quite the opposite of empty."

"These lands are only but memories of the decadent religions of generations past, therefore if our lord deems them as forsaken than so it shall be. Besides, it is not a peasant's place to ask questions of the higher authority. Men have been killed for much less." He stated coldly as the horse pawed at the ground and strained at the bit. "Your last chance, to offer pardon for such blatant insubordination and answer the questions posed. Do not let yourself be fooled by thoughts that to us, the trash of these lands doesn't bleed, for our sword hands stay themselves for no man."

"Really now... is that true?" He answered back, his broadening smile hidden within the combined darkness of the night and beneath his hood. "Then that's perfect—for neither does mine!"

In a movement quicker than the eye could follow, he grasped the dragon's spade, drew it out as he stepped forward, and cleaved the scout's leg beneath the knee and hand from his body, and scored a deep wound in the beast's muscled flesh that ran from flank to shoulder. Panic stricken from the strike, both horse and rider parted ways; the rider to the ground, and the horse with severed hand still attached to the reign at its neck, towards the lagging Calvary, a trail of blood trailing its wake. While on the ground before the Jrrha, the scout writhed in mute agony and shock as he alternated between holding the oozing stumps that had once been limbs. All prior thought of the traveler before him lost to the pain.

Suddenly, the tip of the dragon's tail plunged into the earth just behind his head and he rolled his head back, looking through streaming tears just to see the one who stood above him as though death portrayed.

"Really now, look what you made me do. All just because I didn't like you." The Jrrha said amused by the simple position reversal. "Not so high and mighty when you're the one looking up, eh? Besides, until your friends get here, I thought we could settle that bit of perspective difference we had here just a second ago... what was it now—ah yes—whether this land was forsaken or teeming. Well, aside from the obvious singing that backs my initial point, what opinion have you now?" He motioned with his finger towards the ground beside the man.

There, before even seeing with his own eyes, he felt it in his bones through his skin; an icy touch of death from the beyond, as it grasped his remaining limbs. Sure enough, once victim to the ground, those of the Stra'han'ia who hadn't trailed into the air now came from their locations deep in the soil to claim the flesh of the one he presented them. Unlike that of their lofted singing brethren, those of the earth were more akin to skeletons of the forgotten graves of old, twisted by the evils of the land into horrible representatives of the ancient past. Their touch like death, they gripped the terror stricken man as the clawed their way forth from split earth, greenish red flames leeching from their bare-bone fingers into the still living flesh, rotting and burning it while the man himself couldn't even scream to the pain—for he hadn't even the throat for which to carry the sound—having already returned it to the earth against his own wishes.

In mere moments, those of the non-fleshed life returned to their respective depths, the ashes of the still burning skeleton of the ill-fated man slowly sifting into the soil with them.

"Heh..." laughed the Jrrha, amused by the spectacle, "Dust... eh?" He smiled at the accelerated speed of the once distant flames as those of horse back increased their pace towards inevitable death. "Dust... and ashes... I like it."

The flames of the distance were even closer now... and the singing changed once again. No longer whimsical of the moment forth coming, it spoke of the arts of revenge and war. Apparently having had a taste of the adversary—it like him—now wished for its blood. But would the Calvary still knowing the presence of the Stra'han'ia still come forward? Of this he wasn't entirely certain. But it could prove troublesome unless he knew for sure.

"Stra'cynas stai... I'ceilos-sta." Another perversion of speech, but something akin to 'rest and await the cry', but not a direct translation of such. Translating from song was one thing, but speaking the language himself was quite another.

Whatever the case of speech, the Stra'han'ia seemed to understand the meaning, as they began to settle down in their anger to a simple form of relaxed discomfort. Their song now took new meaning as one of foreboding and sadistic intent that would most likely go unnoticed by the unintelligent horsemen that made their approach.

It was more than perfect.

Alone, he would defeat them, but now he had something else as well—for the land itself had the power more than needed. It was an unexpected treat, and one he'd use to its fullest extent. That is, if only he could keep the inhabitants calm for just enough time before their assistance was needed. Any direction it took it was fine... or actually, now that it had come to this point—it didn't matter anymore.

For the enemy had come.

* * *

6/28/07 - not as far as I had wanted to go initially, but if I didn't release part now I feel I never will. So next chapter will be a big battle, you'll get to see more of the 'Gift' in action and what not. Then the chapter afterwards will be more of the same. And then I can actually lauch into the meat of the first part of the actual story. 

Thanks for reading through the ramblings so far.


	10. Souls from the Depths

Chapter 10: **Souls from the Depths**

The Jrrha closed his eyes and drew his hood back over his head as he leaned back upon the dragon's spade now well imbedded within the earth and gave a moment's pause to savor the sounds come after the now departed twilight... and to feel the movements beneath his feet that he may never feel again. The movements caused by the innumerable quantity of four-legged hoofed animals.

That of the mighty Calvary itself. Aside from the other ones, this had to be the empire's largest after all... though he hadn't thought that he'd created enough trouble to deserve _that_ much attention for his efforts... but he was mildly pleased all the while. Pleased even more so when that very Calvary ceased its forward progress an admirable distance away from him despite the fact that he stood all alone.

"Well met travelers." He acknowledged the horsemen closed eyed, as though simple common folk. "Is the night amiss, that it has given your numbers pause before me?"

"Aye, peasant. And you'd do well to address us with respect if you value your life." Barked the lead horseman, who stayed his ground while his steed held its ground obediently. "Though if facts fall certain, it may be too late already."

"Oh?" inquired the Jrrha amused, "and what facts may these be?"

"That a scout came by here and did not return... save for this." He held up a blood-drained hand so pale that it was easily discernable even in the low light of the night. "And his horse died not long after its return—drowned upon its own blood-filled lungs."

"A body part I presume by the smell of it?" Mused the Jrrha as he tried best to look uninterested. "And this means what exactly to me? After all, I did not kill any man tonight. But then again..." he slowly opened his eyes, "I do remember meeting a man just recently.

"A man with just about as much disrespect for fellow travelers as you and your ilk."

"Then you admit to your crime?"

"No... I wouldn't say that for I have yet to commit such atrocity. For the only thing I'm guilty of is argument. That... and..." he pulled the dragon's spade from the ground and held it before him. "I already settled it with this."

"That—!" exclaimed the horseman with wide eyes. "Then the one who is cause of the disturbances—?"

"Is one whose life revolves around the practice of extinguishing fires... especially those consisting of an _orange flame_."

"Then it is my duty to destroy that practice, so that the fires will survive. It is the will of the empire."

The Jrrha's smile faded slightly as he lowered his weapon. "It is the will of the empire? To what, let fires survive?" He cocked his head to the side. "Then wouldn't the empire wish for my survival?"

"Clearly not, since it is your desire to simply extinguish them... then we who bear the symbol of fire shall have to extinguish you."

"Ah... I think I understand." The Jrrha said with a renewed smile. He let his weapon fall to the ground. "Then let me clarify: I live to destroy the orange flame only, otherwise, fire—" he let his hand alight in flame, "—is just a way of life."

"Wha-?"

"And death..." He threw his hand forward in a sweeping motion as he finished his thought, "—for YOU!"

As punctuation, the ground at the enemy's feet exploded outward in a fiery gulf of inferno, quickly causing panic to the beasts and their riders as they shrank back hastily lest they be engulfed as well, though only two of which were so fortunate, as the rest succumbed quickly to the fires that lapped at their flesh.

"Beast!" Shouted the lead horseman in agony, as he fell past the starting point of the flame and at the ground at the Jrrha's feet. "That you were... a mage!"

"No." he said quietly with subdued insanity as he knelt to the side of the man's burning body, the flames subsiding quickly at his touch. "I know naught of the ways of magic... just the ways... of the _Gift_." He moved the man's scorched face upwards so he could look into his eyes. "And the other word for _Gift_ in the language of the reborn tongue... is _Death_!"

With a quick intake of the man's heat and an even quicker motion of the wrist, the Jrrha separated the now frozen head from the body and lobbed it in the direction of the trailing army as he jumped forward and plunged into his own flames. Already put out of sorts by the burst of flame, the severed head of their lead shattering against the still night's air was the breaking point of their animal's nerves, which whinnied and neighed as they broke formation with the moment's confusion. It was just the moment of chaos needed.

Like that of a living carpet, the fire that had threatened to dissipate resurged in a renewed effort to sweep the ground with its wake, swallowing all those living in its way as it streaked in that of a fine line into the heart of the threatened army. And it was from this fine wake's head that the Jrrha made his appearance known.

Like that of a demon bourn of the fires of hell, he emerged with naught a smudge of cinder as his voice rent the air with a fierce war cry, dragon's spade held aloft, dragon's crest held apt of a monster's disembodied head to welcome the soon to be fallen, and his eyes ablaze with silvered madness as the brand upon his palm blazed with a crimson hue that made his weapon all the more formidable. With neither plan nor mercy, he plunged deep into the ranks of the horsemen and began the brutal felling of his foes. Where for a moment he was easily seen on the upper level to the men upon their steeds, he was lost just as quickly to the tides of the men who sought to destroy him.

As the battle raged there in the heart of it, to the rear half a league away there was different movement.

"Rear mount, what is the situation with our foe?!" A well armored man upon horseback said as he sidled up beside the other man's mount. His black armor rendered him nearly indiscernible from the night around him.

"It seems that our little trouble maker is a sorcerer. That and a fairly powerful one!"

"What of our wards?"

The rear mount shook his head once.

"Is that so?" He stared through an armored helm to that of the burning glow in the far distance. "Then we mustn't crowd into the forsaken lands so willingly. There must be a greater force at work to oppose us so, and if that lies only as a single man, then we must assume a trap awaits."

"Would one be so clever? The act of such blatant rebellion has not once graced the thoughts of the people since before that of the second dawn of riders. To think that there were any at all capable is laughable." The rear mount wore a bitter expression. "What of your detachment of spell casters?"

"Occupied." The man gave an amused laugh. "The mighty Queen of the Kingdom of Air would frown upon us if she thought us so weak to require aid of such a royal dispatch. But fear not. I have already sent word to another. And _they_ will be here shortly."

"_They_ will? Then it is not so much a blood bath than that of a stall." He paused. "I will deliver this news to the Middle Guard then, as we surely have lost our Forward by now. And you, I imagine will be seeking a change in mounts?"

"A good assumption as any. He should only feel so rewarded." The man in black steered his horse towards a reverse face. "Then we shall meet again before the zenith of the moon?"

"That depends on you."

"So it does. Don't die!"

* * *

The Rear mount gave a nod and whipped his horse into a full gallop as he sped forward to get the news across. Though it was a stall that was required, should an opening come... 

Blood flowed freely into his eyes as he plunged the dragon's spade deep into that of another, but fortunately, that blood was not his own. No, it wasn't that he had not received injury so much as having become adept at using his energy to seal a wound should one come. After all, so long as he hold his life, he was an immortal. However, aside from energy for fire and health, it did little to cure the creeping fatigue that sought to rob him of his strength.

In that respect, he still had much room to grow.

As it was, he wasn't ready to use _that_ yet, no, he was having much too much fun!

With a laugh of glee, he dashed through the heated corpse garden at his feet towards the next fool in his sight. Whether he was to catch him with spade or crest it mattered not. Either was just as effective. Either had already partaken of the flesh before, so it was not as if he would be denying or granting one more significant pleasure over the other. It was just as it was.

And the answer of weapon use? Neither.

It was the Gift's turn.

With but a spin, the enemy's weapon was no longer. With but a touch of his finger, and the energy control was there. To pull in would freeze, to push energy out is to burn. But to pull and yet not take in? The possibilities.

He had to try.

Like that—just on a whim of the hint of a notion he did exactly as he had thought before, to pull the energy yet to block it before his fingers, so that energy was forbidden from entry into his being. It wasn't like he had any time to plan otherwise.

In an instant, the soldier froze and caught fire at the same time, though with differences. Where as the energy was stolen from his back, that area froze—just as the energy that collected in his front caused him to burn. As it was... just like this it opened all sorts of new possibilities.

And possibilities that allowed for serious damage, without draining as well. To create fire without expelling energy... this was certainly a step forward. A step he was certain to try all the—more?

Un-noticed, the forces which he had been so mercilessly cutting down had began a retreating movement towards the borders of the forsaken lands, but as they were still too big, a good many still remain trapped within it.

He sighed.

Though he wanted to play for just a bit longer... he guessed that there wasn't any reason to delay it further. His hand moved to the dragon's spade he had hung at his side.

"Wait!"

He hesitated. Who and why?

Through the teeming mass of the still remaining army, a path split as a man dressed in fine garments and detailed battle mail rode forward. Behind him, the soldiers at the front of the mass used the remaining parting to filter the forward part of the army to the middle or back.

They were using the stall to shift fresh men and animals to the frontline.

He stirred in an annoyed fashion but moved his hand away from the dragon's spade. To him, the intrusion better be good... but if not, there were always ways to make it good. No, to make it better.

"To whom or what do I owe this infringement upon my duty?" he asked the horseman in an annoyed voice.

"By authority bestowed upon me by the empire, I ask that you surrender yourself to our will, or face immediate execution."

"Oh...? And how is one not related to the other?" he said smugly. "Surely if I were to hand myself over you'd kill me anyway. Which in that case, I may as well stay here within these lands, as you seem to wish to be anywhere otherwise.

"Which is all well and good for me."

The man before him regarded him with an unchanging expression as his horse pawed the ground in an annoyed fashion. He seemed to be considering his next words carefully.

"It varies, with everything." He stated simply. "The empire is always in need of new strength. Obscurity needs it in order to grow, to defend itself from enemies that may come from afar. You may even be forgiven."

"I see..." The Jrrha trailed off as his eyes swept the shifting armies. "A question to you.

"Does this army of yours have archers or men with ranged weapons?"

Silence.

"Then I have nothing to fear from a harmless army as yours." He repositioned the dragon's crest and put his cloak about his head as he turned away. "I wish you luck in your travels, though should you meet my hand once more... none shall survive my judgment.

"Farewell."

With but a flick of his cloak and he was already in retreat back into the heart of the now still and quiet forsaken lands. Though his step was merely that of a normal pace, it would soon out distance the hesitant Calvary should they stay their position longer. A fact that did not go unnoticed to his enemy.

"Arrest your step!"

The Jrrha smiled with reply but did not turn, "I will not.

"Should you truly wish stop me, then you must give it your all."

Sparred by the insolent lack of concern the hand of the Middle Guard flew to his sheathed sword and grasped the hilt with a murderous intent, but stopped mid-draw... the words of the Rear Mount still fresh in his clouded mind.

"_Should you be tempted to follow further into the forsaken lands, do not! Something is amiss, and though it would pain you to let go, know that the third Prince of Air deems it beyond foolish. Await his company by staying your troops. _

"_I warn you again, lead our armies to no thought of treachery, or I will use my command of the third to pull us out."_

That such thought over such insignificance could stay his blade! Like hell it would.

Without thought to the consequence, he drew his blade and beckoned to his fresh troops upon the fringe of normal ground to follow his lead. The look of madness as heavy in their fiery steeds as the crimson reflections of fire and blood in his blade, there was little to stop them.

Like that of a tide they swept inward just behind that of the Middle Guard as he hastened upon the back of the form that most aggravated him. With so many numbers, despite the power of the one before him, that insolent whelp was destined for death. With his sword held he issued a cry by the pride of his position.

"By the authority of Obscurity, by the will of the Empire, you shall fall!"

"No..." whispered the Jrrha with a smile hidden by his hood, "it shall be you."

Without wasting another expression, he whipped aside his cloak and seized the great spade and swung it high. Placed his other hand upon its edge and let his freshly drawn blood fall to the earth below, before his enemies, before the lands... and called to the night as his foe bore down upon him.

"For the blood of the living... for the sake of your revenge...! By all that's unholy in the fallen lands of the Elves, I bid to thee—RISE!"

Like that of ripples across a pond, the ground beneath split as fine cracks marred its surface, out from the blood drop... and over all of the forsaken ground.

The impact was instantaneous.

At once, the steeds of the enemy bucked and reared, breaking formation despite the cries of riders, desperate to flee the impure lands they tread upon, only too late. Before they could even hope to run, their legs were already sealed—sealed by the thousand arms rising from the ground. Their movements stopped by that of the Stra'han'ia, the beings whom wished destruction upon the armies of Galbatorix like no other.

With such a force reaching skyward, like that of an unholy hell-fire, there was no further need for intervention on his part. But for sake of practice, or simply for the sheer joy of it, the Jrrha would let his prey be taken by no one entity, without him seizing some piece for himself.

So without further thought, he rushed the man who had sought to purge him directly, the fool of a Middle Guard that lay open as the spirits of the forsaken lands gave only him passage—perhaps their way of thanks—as the rest of his fellows around him were cut down in a vicious culling of ridiculous proportions. A guard that had already succumb to his fear of the death surrounding, and lost his physical head just as easily... its blood adding little to the great swath that had already painted the lands crimson.

There was naught one survivor should such man be within the boundary of the land.

* * *

The Rear Mount secured his sword in its sheath from afar, the result of his predecessor's deed frozen upon the face of his severed head. 

The fool.

He had been warned. And now two thirds of the great Calvary lay in waste and ruin. The Queen of Air would likely have his hide, but to return with a third was better than not at all, and if his retreat bought time for the next wave...

He took out a great hollowed horn and put it to his lips.

* * *

The Jrrha paused as a great bellow of sound washed over the lands, even going as far as to echo off the bordering mountains. The spirits of the land even giving pause in their descent back into the cold earth with their kills in tow. 

A retreat order? It had to be, as the formations that lay just beyond the boundary began to draw back.

Should he follow? If so, it would mean leaving these lands and his allies behind. But to let those responsible for the suppression of the North alive, that was equally unacceptable. Besides... as it was already night, the darkness would be the only ally of need.

Without further thought, he gathered his armaments and slipped into the adjacent forest. The fires burning behind him losing their light as the beginnings of a rain began to fall.

* * *

The Rear Mount wiped away hair from his face as the slick leather reigns in his hands began to slide through his fingers as he pressed his remaining army harder into the night. As it was now, buying time was no longer an option, their foe having slipped into that of a bludgeoning nature—was far beyond the point of being stalled with words. Now all that could be done was put distance between them. 

To replay the events in his mind—the clarity of what could only be called carnage!

Who was this young man, and his reasons and his background were all mysteries of unimportance, much more important the possibilities of stopping weighing all the more heavy—weighted with lives—than the minor questions posed by the empire beyond. And the question of most importance... was whether they would escape it at all.

Suddenly, a crackling sound took to the air around them, as the grounds ahead solidified as an all identifying harbinger.

_Impossible!_

That he had caught up so quickly... had he another means of transport, or was it just his knowledge of his surroundings... or was it that he was than far removed from his humanity?

Before he could think further, the fools who did not heed the sounds before them were lost to the iced forest beyond, crushed beneath the weight of their own fallen mounts.

He flinched in his saddle. Something hard was colliding with him from above—like daggers from the sky—mixed with the pouring black rain of Obscurity! His breath hung on the air... and he understood. Rain... it was rain itself!

"Right guard! Left flank forward! Keep your backs towards the mountains! Leave the horses!" He dismounted his horse and smacked it hard, spurring it into a wild run—his soldiers quickly following suit. The resulting scurry of animals should create enough of a diversion to shield their preparations.

If lucky, it would also help reveal the enemy's position.

The Rear Mount grimaced as he thrust his sword into the ground at his feet. The magic warding resonating with the shield barrier set by his troops as he notched an arrow upon the bow he had liberated from its holdings prior his dismount.

All he needed was one true shot.

He watched as his horse ran directly for the woods beyond, sliding upon the ice below as it advanced. The dull clinking sound of the ice on the shield barrier stretched the anticipation painfully as he continued to watch the horse make its leave. It would come anytime.

He watched in slow motion as his horse's leg came down for the last time, before splintering apart as the completely frozen animal shattered from the jarring.

_NOW!_

Pieces of the horse blew apart as concentrated balls of fire pierced its entirety as they streaked right across to the soldiers beyond, glancing harmlessly off the ward shielding. The residual fire trail creating the perfect path to his foe—a perfect opportunity!

He loosed the arrow... but did not get the chance to notch another... as the next wave of fire not only pierced the barrier, but set his weapon—as well as his right side—alight with flame. The first arrow did nothing more than turn to dust far before reaching its mark.

That was all it took.

With their leader downed, the great shield wall broke, the soldiers charging as one unit, one force, towards the unreachable foe. A foe that did nothing more than smile as he embraced the darkness.

* * *

The Jrrha thrust the dragon's spade into the frozen earth for support, just before collapsing backwards in a fit of exhaustion. All around him were the pieces of the soldiers from before... expressions of terror and fleeting regrets locked onto their frozen faces—at least the fragments remaining. 

It was painful. Perhaps he had outdone himself... even though in the last he did naught but absorb, the amount of energy in did nothing to displace the energy spent. And even he was not without wounds.

The Jrrha looked over at the half burnt—but still breathing—body of his last foe. The only one that seemed to have any brain to him. He was considering letting him be the messenger. But he hadn't completely decided.

He smiled to the unseen mountains beyond. If they hadn't curved the way they had, he would never have been able to cut across the forest as quickly. But it had provided a natural herding tool.

He was thankful.

There was some lightning, but he found it peaceful. Lightning that even behind his closed eyes would be dim and unimportant.

But... something about closing his eyes while in the open seemed a bad idea.

He opened his eyes and stared outward. A chill seized his body before releasing him to a chilled sensation.

On instinct, his fingers found his weapon. There was something else... something had come for him. He felt the need to move.

However, before he could even move to a kneeling position, the next flash of lightning confirmed his worse fear. That of a serpentine neck, arching high in the night's sky, a great body of hardened muscle and armor out of sight, but close behind. As well as an approach of the creatures whose sounds he was all too familiar with.

That whether ridden or not...

The Wilds had come.

**

* * *

**AC (2/12/08): Long overdue. Might have mistakes here and there. I didn't feel like re-reading it anymore. 


End file.
